Straight Jackets, Cigarettes and Khaki Pants
by Pure-Pen
Summary: AU- He's quit hockey, his father is so far gone that there is no turning back and all he wants... well he doesn't know what he wants...
1. Flashbacks and Major Trouble

**Title**: _Straight Jackets, Cigarettes and Khaki Pants_  
  
**Author**: _Pure-Pen  
_  
**Summary**: _AU- He's quit hockey. His dad is so far gone that there is no turning back. And all he wants is... Well he's not sure what he wants.  
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**Dedication**: _Katie and Emily, both who have sat over AOL and listened to my crappy story ideas. Hey this one happened to be good!  
_  
**Disclaimer**: _I own nothing. I don't own the Ducks, whom belong to Disney and were created by Steven Brill. The only things I own are any characters you don't recognize, and they will only be secondary characters so don't worry. This story is loosely based on the movie 'Igby Goes Down' so I also don't own that movie either.   
_  
**Notes**: _This is all in Adam's POV. There is no switching because I hate that.Because this story is loosely based on Igby Goes Down, there may be some similarities. I may use some quotes from that movie. By the way, don't review me asking for a pairing because this is not a romance story. If it was romance I would've put it under genre and don't thank me for not making this slash. I am toying with the idea of that issue. I'm still in the deciding stages. Other than that, R&R. I welcome it!  
_  
**Chapter One- Flashbacks and Major Trouble**  
  
I _used_ to play hockey.  
  
I know that for sure. I know I loved it because my father loved the game. I know that he also made me quit. I remember the exact day that I quit. It was a Saturday and it was a nice day too. I remember my father patted me on the back and told me to 'show no mercy', as he always told me.  
  
I don't remember what I had for breakfast that morning. I don't remember how my father took his coffee that morning, and I don't remember the exact words he used that forced me to quit hockey forever.  
  
I do remember going to my room and being quiet for the whole day as my father sorted out the mess. The thing was that he never sorted out the mess. He tried but his efforts were in vain. He said I was a Duck or I didn't play hockey. I didn't want to be a Duck but I wanted to play. I remember looking in my father's eyes and seeing the pain it would cause him if I played for a different team. And I remember hearing my heart break as I said I didn't want to play.  
  
It was a month after that, that he had his breakdown.  
  
I remember that it was my birthday. I remember combing my hair, and I remember tucking in my shirt and I remember my mother calling me to hurry up because we had reservations at the Club and it took an hour to get there.  
  
I don't remember the excuse mother gave me to explain why my father was taking another car. I don't remember what I was thinking of ordering for my birthday dinner. I don't remember what song played over the radio as we drove down the freeway.  
  
But I _vividly_ remember the hospital. I remember crying in the elevator as we went to the second floor and I remember the emotionless look on mother's face. I remember not being allowed in my father's room to give him a hug and I remember how quickly mother decided that he needed to be in the institution.  
  
In my eleven year old mind, I had never hated someone so much and as the years progressed that hatred didn't just envelop my mother, Mimi, as I call her, and my relationship, but it froze over everything else.  
  
My heart had frozen.

* * *

I cracked my knuckles as I watched Dean Prichard flinch in his seat. I couldn't help but smirk. He was jumpier than my last Dean and that was much more fun to deal with and mess with. I sighed as I realized that my knuckles wouldn't crack anymore and focused on my watch. My mother was late, again, for a meeting with a Dean. I loosened my tie and looked around the room.  
  
The door swung open and my mother sauntered into the room, in a perfectly matching cream dress suit and perfectly educated and polite apologies fell from her lips that were smeared with a crimson colored lipstick. "Dean Prichard, I'm dreadfully sorry. My elder son got caught in traffic and well, it was dreadful."  
  
The Dean nodded and smiled, taking the hand of my mother and touching it gingerly as if it was fragile. "It's alright, no harm done." He smiled. He seemed to be more at ease when a parental unit was in plain view. I must frighten him. How delightful.  
  
I got up and allowed my mother to give me a light, half hearted hug. "Mimi, how good it is to see you." I muttered and sat back down.  
  
My mother smiled and sat down, barely even touching the seat. "So Dean, you wished to speak with me?"  
  
Dean Prichard cleared his throat and nodded. "Well yes Mrs. Banks. I wanted to speak with you about Adam's behavior." I suppressed a snort. This was going to be interesting.  
  
"I know that Adam has some difficulties..." Mimi started but was quickly cut off.  
  
"Mrs. Banks, it isn't just difficulties. I mean he has little or _no_ respect for authority, _no_ discipline and _absolutely no_ apathy for others." He glanced at me. "I fear that there may be no room for Adam in John F. Kennedy Academy."  
  
My mother frowned clutching the handle of her purse as if she was trottleing it..."Whatever do you mean? There was room here at the beginning of the semester..."  
  
"I mean, it may be a good idea if Adam experienced a _stricter_ environment during his educational career."  
  
I coughed. This was **excellent.** I beat my record. Usually it took a month for me to be kicked out of a school, but this time it was only two weeks. This was my fifth prep school since the beginning of this year and it was driving my mother mad. I remember her saying last time that if I messed up here I would be off to military school, but I knew it was an empty threat. Imagine the scandal; a Banks' boy going off to military school.  
  
"Are you kicking him out?" My mother asked nervously. "Or are you just suggesting it?"  
  
Dean Prichard frowned. "He is officially expelled from this school. Causing riots, bullying, picking fights, bring contraband and illegal substances onto school grounds." He said reading my file. "Do you want the complete list of his infractions?"  
  
My mother sternly shook her head. "No. I'm quite fine thank-you."  
  
He nodded and looked at my mother with pity in his eyes. "I expect his belongings to be taken off school grounds by the end of the week. Is that suitable for you?"  
  
My mother nodded. "It's fine." She glanced over at me. "Come along Adam." She snapped getting up from her seat and making her way to the door and walking out of the room.  
  
I slowly got up, mock saluted Prichard and scoffed as I exited his office. I wondered how many more schools I could get out of.  
  
Outside stood Mimi and my brother Denis, otherwise known as Denny waiting for me.  
  
My mother stared at me and slapped me upside the head. "Do you have any idea how _embarrassing _that was?" She spat.  
  
I rubbed the base of my skull and groaned. "I would've expected the embarrassment to go down and the expectancy to go up by now." I replied as I straightened my bag that hung pitifully off my shoulder. "So where are we off to now?"  
  
My brother rolled his college freshmen eyes at me and scoffed.  
  
Mimi frowned. "Is this just a game to you? Think you can just put off life? This isn't a game Adam."  
  
"Mother, save your breath; we have a long ride to the airport for you and a nice flight to Minneapolis for us." Denny replied brushing his beach blond hair out of his eyes.  
  
My ears perked. "Minneapolis?" I asked. This was surprising. My mother wanted me in an East coast prep school, just like Denny.  
  
"Oh yes." Denny replied in mock enthusiasm as my mother stomped down the hall. "It's a surprise that Eden Hall is even considering excepting you. Mimi must have some compromising pictures of the Dean with some of the boys." He explained raising his eyebrows suggestively.  
  
I shook my head and walked off down the hall. I needed a cigarette bad. It's too bad that they were confiscated before I went into the Dean's office and I was flat broke. 


	2. Dean Buckley vs The Kleptomaniac

**Chapter 2- Dean Buckley vs. The Kleptomaniac**

I sighed as my brother's car rounded the final bend and parked the car in front of the school. Eden Hall Academy looked fairly similar to all the other prep schools that I had gone to.  
  
Large property; _check_. Large stone building with large stone steps; _check_. School colors on display; _check_. Tons of mindless drones being forced into the system; _check_.  
  
It was so much like the others I thought I would vomit. It would be fun to see the look on ol' Denny's face as the paint peeled off his new car, but the idea of re-experiencing the food from the airplane was enough torture for one day, so I saved that little idea for the future.  
  
Denny cleared his throat and looked expectantly at me. "Can you get yourself in there without an escort, or do I have to treat you like the five year old you pretend to be?"  
  
I rested my elbow on the door, placed my head in my hand and glanced at him as if saying _'do you really trust me that much?'  
_  
He groaned and got out of the car and walked to the other side waiting for me to get out, which I did after a few minutes of making him wait. I grabbed my bag from the back and pushed myself to get out of the car being only a couple steps behind Denny.  
  
The inside of the building even looked identical. Marble staircases; _check_. Happy students; _check_. Big trophy cases complete with plenty of big and shiny trophies; _check_. This was so much like the other schools. I'd only have to put up with this place for a month tops; _a minimum_ of three weeks. I could try for two weeks again, but let's not over exert myself. Besides, I could loose my touch. "Three weeks." I muttered.  
  
"Pardon?" My brother asked looking over his shoulder at me suspiciously. Oops. Did I say that out loud?  
  
"Denis Banks?" A man with grayish hair asked as Denny put his hand on doorknob of the Main Office. He was fairly tall with a worn face with little creases around his eyes and his eyes looked full of life. I always liked to take note of little things like that. It was always so much more fun when I _eventually _broke their spirits.  
  
"Yes." My brother acknowledged him in a way that should have made me sick. My family makes me nauseous; so sue me. "I assume you're Dean Buckley?"  
  
I smiled. Perfect. I got to meet my rival within the first couple minutes of coming to the school. I might as well get acquainted with him, and also get comfortable in his office. I have a feeling he will be dealing with me personally.  
  
"And you assumptions are correct." He replied with a grin and a pat on the shoulder, trying his best to seem welcoming and friendly. The urge to scream, '_Stop with the act! You just want our money!_' overcame me, but after years of grooming at the pretentious schools, I actually did learn a thing or two. One of those things is when to keep my mouth shut, however sometimes I ignored these lessons; more often than not did I ignore those lessons.  
  
"And this must be Adam."  
  
I didn't even have to say anything. My brother seemed to take over as Dean Buckley led us into his spacious office. "And it is, my _troublesome_ little brother." Denny replied with a chuckle, slapping his hand on my back, pretending that we are close.  
  
The truth is that we were close, back when dad wasn't a loon and my mother wasn't as much of an alcoholic as she is now. We were close when I played hockey. Now, we only seem to be close when we are poking fun at each other or when my mother needs backup with me, which is more often than she would like to admit, and less often than I would like to say.  
  
Dean Buckley and Denny talked about me as if I weren't even there. The new Dean seemed slightly concerned about my record, which was fairly thick from my infractions, and Denny was ensuring that with Dean Buckley's help '_I wouldn't be any trouble at all_.' That's what he always said. He was just being sure that Dean Buckley wouldn't run off with his tail between his legs as soon as he got a quick look at my record.  
  
Meanwhile I took inventory of his office. A couple pictures of his family were across his desk. He had a daughter, a young son and a wife. They smiled at me from behind the glass on the picture frame on his desk. I cast my eyes away from them and my eyes seemed to lock on a pair of golden personalized pens on the edge of his desk.  
  
"Well Adam, I think this is going to be a good experience for you. Build some character, create some good connections." Dean Buckley announced, snapping my attention to him in an instant. He slid a room key onto the edge of his desk along with a timetable and agenda. "I think if you try, you will fit right in here at Eden Hall."  
  
I nodded and grabbed the timetable, folding it a couple times and putting it in the breast pocket of my jacket, placed the agenda in my bag and playing with the key as I awaited my dismissal.  
  
My brother cleared his throat and frowned. "I think it may be necessary to also give him a tracking sheet and have regular dorm checks. My brother has been known to get into mischief if he doesn't have someone watching him." He glanced at me and focused on Dean Buckley who seemed to frown at this statement. Dick. Weren't brother's supposed to be loyal to each other?

Ok... maybe he isn't happy with the fact he had to take time out of hanging with his friends to bring me to this school. But he would be even less happy with me when he found out his wallet was missing a couple hundred. He should really consider carrying smaller bills with him.   
  
"I don't know if we really need to go as far as the tracking sheet. Here at Eden Hall we like to give students the benefit of the doubt, but I think dorm checks may be suitable." Dean Buckley replied with a nod reaching for one of his pens at the edge of his desk. His eyes widened as he realized there was only one. "Where did that pen go?" He muttered to himself as he reached about the desk, looking under some of the papers.  
  
My brother jerked his head immediately at me, just nostrils flaring like an angry bull. He knew; it's just sad that Dean Buckley was _pleasantly_ oblivious.  
  
I sighed and reached into my bag and retrieved the pen and sat it on his desk. Dean Buckley stared at me, flabbergasted at my behavior and nonchalant attitude. "Thank you." He muttered with wide eyes as he grabbed the pen carefully and wrote a quick note, eying me the entire time.  
  
I shrugged. "I didn't notice it with my agenda."  
  
My brother breathed deeply, his neck turning red from embarrassment. "Yes, I think it may be time for me to get young Adam here settled. Is there anything else he needs to know?"  
  
I crossed my arms defiantly. Tell me Buckley, what else do I need to know? I smirked. This guy was going to be such a pushover.  
  
"That will be all." He replied eying me. "If you need a map; ask Miss Jamison. She'll be more than happy to help you."  
  
Denny was the first to get up and quickly made his way to the door as I collected my bag and pushed out of the chair with a sadistic smirk and walked out of his office. By the time I had gotten out of the office Denny had already collected a pair of maps and was waiting for me by the door. I winked at the gorgeous secretary, whom I guessed was Miss Jamison and walked out of the door, which Denny was holding.  
  
My brother and I seemed to be in a race as we walked toward the car to grab my suitcases and a box of personal items that he had okay-ed while I packed.  
  
"You had to let out your inner _kleptomaniac_ on the Dean's _personal possessions_ didn't you?" He spat as he opened the door to his car and shoved the heavy box in my arms. "I thought we were going to be _good_ and actually _enjoy_ your time here."  
  
I scoffed as he grabbed my suitcases and closed the car door behind him and locking the car with a push of a button on his keychain. "I'm considering my options."  
  
He rolled his eyes as we started our trek to the boy's dormitories. "Your options have been considered for you Adam." He replied angrily glancing at me and shaking his head. "This is your last stop before you head to military school and I know you don't want to do that."  
  
I rolled my eyes. "You never know. Maybe knowing how to shoot a rifle may come in handy one day soon." I smiled at the hidden meaning.  
  
He huffed. "You don't have to like it here. You just have to be. When you attend classes you get good marks Adam. Just pass high school, go to whatever college mother deems suitable and then you can change your name and do whatever you feel like. Just visit us on Christmas and you won't have to hear from us."  
  
I shrugged. "Maybe I like causing mother problems. Maybe I feel like I don't get enough attention and I'm acting out to get her and your attention. Love me Denny. I'm just a little lost puppy and I just need love." I laughed as we walked up the steps to my new 'home' for the next three weeks.  
  
"You've been getting enough attention lately and your satire has no effect on me Adam. "He replied with an emotionless look on his face. "What room number are we looking for?" He stopped.  
  
I put the box on the ground and reached into my pocket and pulled out the first thing I touched; my pack of cigarettes.  
  
He frowned and dropped a suitcase and snatched the carton out of my hand. "I thought you were quitting." He snapped as he tossed the half empty pack in the trash.  
  
I looked longingly at the trash bin. I had a feeling I would need those tonight. "No, you said I should think about quitting. I thought about it and bought a new pack; the one you threw out." I replied bitterly. I glared at him angrily as I dug through my pocket, being careful not to pull out my lighter I had lifted from my old roommate in Maine. I gripped my key and stared at the room number. "Room 310."  
  
My brother grinned. "Excellent. Then you won't be able to sneak out after curfew without breaking your neck."  
  
I glared at him as he walked up the first flight of stairs. "Don't temp me." I called up at him as a boy with dark curly hair passed me, looking at me funny as I responded. I glared at him. "What are you looking at?"  
  
He shrugged. "Nothing, you just look familiar."  
  
I shook my head as I didn't even give him the courtesy of a short response laced with sarcasm and wit. Not that it would've mattered as I continued onto the second staircase. Sarcasm is wasted on the stupid. However he did look _slightly_ familiar.  
  
I got onto the third floor just as my brother had found room 310. "It looks nice from here." He called from in front of the door over a couple freshmen boys who were kicking around a hackie sack in the middle of the hall.  
  
"Of course it does." I yelled back, ducking under the game and dragging my feet as I neared Denny. "If the halls looked like crap do you really think the rich folk like Mimi would invest their money and the minds of their children at this dump?"  
  
My brother looked over at me with a glare. "I'm sure you'll get an excellent education here. You would've gotten a better one at the other schools but you insisted on acting out."  
  
I shook my head as I shoved the key in the lock and twisted the doorknob. I turned to Denny with an unimpressed look. "It's a closet."  
  
He frowned. "It is bigger than your old room at Nixon Academy."  
  
"I went to John F. Kennedy Academy for Boys, not Nixon thank you very much." I corrected with a sneer. "And I don't care. It's a _closet_, and I refuse to stay here."  
  
My brother walked into the room and put the suitcases on the empty bed. "Well it's either here or you can stay with mother at home and I have to drive you to school everyday."  
  
I cocked an eyebrow. "You're staying with Mimi here in Minnesota? What about Yale?"  
  
"I'm taking a semester off." He replied quickly. "Besides, I'm quite sure mother doesn't want to be left alone in our house until you mess up in this place. She needs someone to watch her seeing I know you won't visit her."  
  
"Just like she won't visit Dad." I snapped kicking my box into the room.  
  
He closed his eyes. My brother didn't like to talk about father and when he did he always made it sound like he was dead instead of in Northern Wisconsin in a mental institution locked in a little room, much like this place sans the second bed. "That's different Adam."  
  
I rolled my eyes. "Well thanks, you can leave now." I replied sarcastically, motioning towards the door.  
  
My brother looked at me pitifully and shook his head. "I'll see you on Saturday. We'll have lunch. Call me if you need anything." He muttered and walked out of the room.  
  
I slammed the door behind him and collapsed on the bed. Ok, so the room wasn't a closet. It was a fairly normal sized room and the walls were a cream color which was so bright and pleasant. I licked my lips and grabbed my cell phone from my bag and flipped it open, dialing a number I knew too well.  
  
"Jim?" I asked into the phone. "Yeah it's Banksie. You wouldn't by any chance have any 'connections' in _Minneapolis_; would you?"


	3. The Dealer, the Disciplinarian and the D...

**Chapter 3: The Dealer, the Disciplinarian and the Dumbasses**

I pulled my coat tight around me and exhaled into my palms as I waited for someone to come. I wasn't exactly in the _nicest_ side of Minneapolis and I wasn't exactly meeting one of the _nicest_ people. His name was Joe, _supposedly_. And my name was 'Anthony' _supposedly_. I never ever gave out my real name to people like this. I was Anthony Wright, just an eighteen year old trying to find life's well worn path in all the wrong places before going off to New York University.  
  
I would always use the same story. _Always_.  
  
"You Anthony?" Some lanky, teenage guy with a mess of black and blue hair asked me as he tapped my shoulder.  
  
I nodded and together we walked into an alley beside the corner store we were in front of. "You got the stuff?"  
  
He licked his chapped lips and nodded. "You got the cash?"  
  
I nodded and pulled a wad of paper bills out of my back pocket and handed it to him. "Where's the stuff?" I asked expectantly and stared him straight in the eyes.  
  
He took of his leathery gloves and took my hand, as if we were shaking hands. This guy was different than the other people I had met with. I nodded and he quickly walked away. I shoved the stuff in my pants pocket and casually walked out of the alley.  
  
I reached into my back pocket to see how much more money I had with me. I was going to have to break some of the large bills I 'borrowed' from my brother, but a corner store didn't exactly seem like the place to do that, but I needed a cigarette really bad.  
  
The bell from above the door rang and I immediately walked to the corner and put my fake ID down. It was a really good one too. My good friend of mine back in the school I went to in D.C. really was an artist when it came to these things. Life is all about making good connections.  
  
The second I got out of the store I opened the carton carefully and balanced the stick between my lips as I fumbled for my lighter. I clicked the lighter and breathed in. That felt better. God damn brother, throwing out my stuff that I bought...uh... borrowed... from my roommate. I exhaled as I walked toward the bus stop, checking my watch. Curfew was at 10. I might as well be on time the first day I was here.

* * *

I tossed my second cigarette beside the iron gates as Eden Hall came into view. It looked even bigger at night. I wasn't exactly sure why, but it did. And with that, a feeling of impending doom washed over me; however I was used to this feeling. I always get that feeling as I walk into a new school.  
  
I trudged over through the snow, dragging my feet and looking up at the sky. I may be a rebellious son-of-a-bitch but I do take time and stare at the finer things in life, like stars for example.  
  
"Mr. Banks!"  
  
I jumped and spun around a couple times in the dark until I saw who was calling me. God-damn it! Buckley.  
  
"Mr. Banks, come here." He said waving in hand, gesturing that I should join him on the path. I frowned and stomped through the snow and onto the shoveled sidewalk. He put a hand on my shoulder and looked down at our feet. "Mr. Banks, what is _this_?"  
  
I looked over at him and frowned. "What is what exactly?" I asked completely confused. This guy was a nut case. "Look, its 9:50, I'm not late; you can't give me detention." I replied quickly trying to escape from his grasp.  
  
He shook his head. "No Mr. Banks. This is a _path._ I would like you to _walk_ on it."  
  
I raised an eyebrow. "This is about me not walking on the grass?"  
  
"Walk on the path the brilliant minds before you walked upon. Follow their footsteps and you can't go wrong." He smiled and nodded. "Goodnight Mr. Banks." He then promptly dropped his hand from my shoulder and continued down the path towards the Dean's house that was near the back of the property.  
  
I blinked and looked around and continued on the path towards the Boy's dorm. That guy was a real wack-job and seriously needs some anti-psychotics or something.  
  
I couldn't believe that he was the person Mimi had trusted my raw mind that was in desperate need to be molded with him. With my luck my mother probably did have compromising pictures of him with some of the guys here. I pondered this as I climbed the stairs to the third floor.  
  
As I reached the second floor a puck, that seemed to be going five thousand miles per hour, flew past my head and bounced of the wall and ricocheted down the stairs. I immediately fell to my knees and covered my head. What the _hell_ was going on? This place was a zoo!  
  
I slowly got off my knees and heard the sounds of persons running toward the stairs. A pair of heads peeked into the stairs. Both with jet black hair, one of which was slicked back and the other was loose and long and both were wearing bandanas. I stood up straight and put an angry frown on my face. God, your classic Neanderthals. "What the fuck do you think you're doing, you idiots?! Are you completely stupid or do you actually understand that it was a bone-headed thing to shoot pucks into a staircase?!" I yelled at them.  
  
They stepped into plain view and I realized they were a whole lot bigger than I had expected. I swallowed. Ok, so I rebel against my parents but picking fights with a pair of guys twice my size was something I don't do. I learned that back when I was ten and I was thrown into a pile of trash by some thug who was protecting a group of _not even_ mediocre, scrawny hockey players, with my old best friends.  
  
As a matter of fact, the shorter of the two Neanderthals looked a lot like the guy who threw me in trash. I squinted at him. It couldn't be. He was poor and was a _nobody_. He didn't have friends; he only had enemies and allies. I wouldn't be surprised if he were dead or a druggie.  
  
They didn't seem to move much more, so I scowled at them and continued up the stairs. Stupid school. Stupid students. Stupid idiotic hockey players who took too many hockey pucks to the head. It was a stupid sport. _Any_ sport that involved body armor deserved to be outlawed.  
  
I huffed as I reached my door, pushing through the freshmen students and unlocking my door and pushing it open, hard enough so it hit the wall, shaking the objects in the room slightly.  
  
"Anthony?"  
  
I blinked and saw that it was the dealer from before. "Jim?" I asked raising both eyebrows and blinking nervously.  
  
"Not exactly." He replied, his brow furrowing. "The name is Drake. Jim is just my cover. Are you my new roommate?"  
  
I closed the door behind me and walked over to my bed and he sat on the edge of his bed, letting his long legs sprawl across the floor. "I'm Adam. I never give my real name out to dealers and I guess I'm your new roommate."  
  
He grinned and reached to shake my hand. "Awesome. This is going to be so much better than my last roommate."  
  
I shook his hand and grinned. "Well I'm glad." I smirked.  
  
"Yeah, little Asian dude flipped out when he saw me smoking in the room. He put on this _holier than thou_ act until I told him that if he said anything I would give an anonymous tip on who let the fire ants out on the Varsity hockey team." He laughed. "Should've seen his face."  
  
I smirked. "Very smooth." This was going to be great. I'm already making connections. If I buddy up with my roommate I won't have to worry about my personal 'needs' from here on out. I got up and opened my suitcase and began to pull some of my clothes out to put in the dresser that was supplied to me and in the closet. I always unpack even though I know that I won't be in one place for long. If I didn't unpack, it would seem suspicious.  
  
"Oh, and if anyone asks where I am and I'm not here, say I'm at my job delivering pizzas." He said repositioning himself on his bed and picking up a magazine off the nightstand. "It's code and cover okay?"  
  
I nodded. I already like this guy.  
  
"Oh, and Alan's coming over soon so you should leave before he arrives."  
  
I frowned and continued to unpack. "Why?"  
  
He paused for a second then snickered. "Because I don't think you exactly _swing_ that way. I mean your look screams 'repressed gay guy' but your mannerisms scream straight."  
  
I spun around and frowned at the black and blue haired boy on his bed, still flipping through a car magazine like what he just revealed was nothing. "You're _gay_?"  
  
He nodded and licked his thumb and flipped the page. "Yup. If you have a problem with it, you should go and apply for a room change."  
  
I shook my head and swallowed. "No, I don't have a problem with it; I have roomed with a gay guy before, it's just that it took him a _week_ before he actually told me."  
  
Drake shrugged and put the magazine down on his lap. "Look, Adam. I figured that it would be stupid to hide it from you. You would either catch me in the act, which would be _extremely _embarrassing ending up with one of us switching rooms because we can't look at each other the same way, you figuring it out on your own which will make you feel upset and betrayed or you'll hear something from someone which would end up with the same outcome."  
  
I rolled my eyes. "Betrayed?" I scoffed as I shoved some socks into a drawer. "I don't even _know_ you."  
  
"_Yet_." He added. "You don't know me _yet_." He sighed and I heard the ruffling of a magazine again. "You're fairly stereotypical you know. I mean, right down to the assuming that you won't get to know anyone here, not even the person you're sharing close quarters with. You really have the preppy badass act down pact. _**Bravo**_."  
  
"Thanks for labeling me." I snapped at him as I grabbed couple pairs of khaki pants and shoved them into the bottom drawer of the dresser and kicked the drawer closed. I turned around and stared at him as he ran a hand through his blue streak of hair and rested his head on his arm against the wall.  
  
He sighed and continued to read the magazine. "But that's what keeps me sane Adam. Don't spoil my fun."  
  
I shook my head at my crazy roommate and grabbed my backpack that was thrown by the foot of my bed filled with a couple books and a CD player. "Okay whatever. What time should I come back?"  
  
"Midnight. He should be gone by then." He replied with a shrug.  
  
I slung the bag over my shoulder and walked toward the door gripping the handle and pushing it open.  
  
"Oh, and be careful of the jocks downstairs. Some of the hockey goons like to shoot pucks into the stairway." He scoffed and shook his head. "Idiots."  
  
I laughed and smirked. "I already know."

* * *

I trudged down in the TV room that was open to all the guys in the dormitory. It was fairly empty, except for a few people. A blonde boy in the corner scribbling away at a note at a lone table in a corner and a geeky red haired kid with glasses sitting in front of the TV flipping channels a mile a minute muttering to himself 'stupid re-runs'.  
  
I frowned and sat on the other side of the other side of the couch and sat my backpack on the floor and opened my bag, setting my CD player out and pulling out a dog eared copy of a book, '_The Picture of Dorian Grey_' by _Oscar Wilde_. My family urges me to read books that will inspire me to be the better person than what I am. I _avoid _those books. More than once I have gotten a book with writing in the cover with those very words, tarnishing the novel and making me avoid it like the plague.  
  
I like classic books and I'm not exactly sure why. Maybe it's the fact that some are gritty and break the molds of that time, as I eventually want to do in the present.  
  
"Hey." The guy beside me said turning his attention away from the television that he has given up on. "What class are you reading that for?"  
  
I looked over the binding at his brown eyes that were still full of warmth and vitality. "It's not for a class." I replied through gritted teeth. I hate when people bother me when I'm obviously focusing on something, for example, one of my favorite books that I'm reading for the fifth time.  
  
"Oh." He replied. "I'm Les, but everyone calls me Averman. I haven't seen you around before."  
  
I considered using my fake name, but I figured it would get messy if I was in one of his classes or something. As much as I like drama and trouble, I would _rather_ it over big spectacular things, for example, setting a firecracker off in the middle of lunch, not over a case of mistaken identity. "Adam Banks and I just started coming here."  
  
He smiled and continued talking as I tried to refocus on my book. "That's cool. Do you need help or anything? I mean, directions or hints or anything?"  
  
"Fine thanks." I muttered and buried myself in my book.  
  
"Are you sure..."  
  
"Averman! Leave the guy alone and be quiet! I'm trying to write something here." The blonde guy in the corner yelled at the red headed kid.  
  
His eyes rolled behind his thick glasses. "Yeah; another forgive me letter to Connie! If you wanted peace and quiet, you _should've_ written it in your room."  
  
The blonde guy scoffed. "Yeah, like I can really write a sensitive letter to her with the Bash Brother's music pounding through the paper thin walls."  
  
"You couldn't write a sensitive letter to her with _classical _music being played around you Guy." The red haired kid shot back and rested his head in his hand. "Besides isn't that why she broke up with you in the first place?"  
  
And with that comment they began arguing with each other a hundred words per minute. I rolled my eyes and shoved my book in my bag and shoved my headphones in my ears and rushed up the stairs to the third floor.  
  
I would rather sit outside my door until the wee hours of the morning then spend it between _Dumb and Dumber_ downstairs.  
  
_**Morons.**_


	4. Tripping Over the Little Things

**Chapter 4: Tripping Over the Little Things**

"Yo dude, wake up."  
  
I groaned, stretched and tugged at the cords to my headphones pulling them out of my ears with a pop.  
  
I looked up and saw a tall, lean guy leaning down in front of me, his nose inches away from mine, despite the fact I was sitting on the ground. His sandy brown hair that resembled a mushroom cut that was long overdue for a hair appointment, was tousled, probably from whatever he had been doing with my roommate.  
  
"What time is it?" I moaned. My back ached from leaning against the wall and my ass _killed_ from sitting on the wooden floor. There was only one light and that was in the center of the hallway down a ways from us. My guess; _late_.  
  
He reached out his hand and pulled me off the ground. "Twelve thirty." He replied in a tired monotone. "You're the new roommate huh?"  
  
I scratched my ear and tried to blink the sleep out of my eyes. "I guess. You're the _boyfriend_?"  
  
His dark brown eyes, that almost looked a black color widened and he shook his head and looked both ways. "I would rather you not spreading that around _thanks_." He growled from deep within his throat. He blinked after the warning and shrugged. "Yeah I guess."  
  
I nodded and stood in front of him in silence unsure of what to do or say.  
  
"Alan, by the way. Alan Stock." He said thrusting out his hand and not breaking eye contact. Without meaning to, this guy was a little creepy and I know creepy; I'm usually creepy's best friend.  
  
"Adam Banks." I replied grasping his hand and matching his tight grip. For some reason this guy makes me feel very small and I'm not sure I like that. However, I need to make connections and this guy seems to be the type to make connections with. "Guess I'll be seeing you around." I nodded.  
  
He nodded and let go of my hand and shoved his hands into his pockets and retrieving his key and walking to the door next to mine and Drake's. "Guess so, _neighbor_." He smirked and pushed the door open as quietly as possible.  
  
I shook my head and walked into my own room. It looked fairly normal, including Drake, who hasn't seemed to have moved from the very spot he was lying in before I left. His hair was almost neater than what it was before I had left, everything was in place and he still had the _'bored but baring it'_ smirk spread across his face.  
  
"Hey." I muttered looking around, including the ceiling. I wasn't sure why, but this kind of freaked me out. _Something _should be out of order.  
  
"Are you missing something?" He asked putting his car magazine down and staring at me, his nose twitching with confusion.  
  
I shook my head. "No. I was just expecting the room to be more... messy? You know?"  
  
He shrugged as I sat down on my bed uneasily. "No I don't know." He rolled his eyes when I didn't move or do anything in response. "That was a joke. Ha ha _ha_?" He scoffed and readjusted his magazine on his lap. "Guess we don't know each other well enough to be cracking jokes." He muttered under his breath.  
  
I shook my head at my abnormal roommate and turned around and pulled my shirt off my back and threw it into my closet.  
  
"I don't like mess alright?" Drake admitted without me even pressuring him. "It just bothers me. Always has, always will." He explained.  
  
"Oh." I muttered unsure of what to say in response as I crawled under a blanket I had tossed on my bed before I had left to pick up my uhhh...needs...  
  
"Night." He muttered as he turned out the light.  
  
I nodded even though he couldn't see me through the dark.  
  
And thus began my restless night. See, I've been to tons of schools, most of which are on the East Coast, and fairly expensive at that and I can never fall asleep on my first night there. I usually end up thinking most of the night. Usually about my family. Mostly about my mother and her greed.  
  
My mother is proud to say that I haven't spent one day in a public school; all private, every single one of them. The sad thing is that I've run out of places to go, _basically_. And if I haven't gone there, they have heard of me and they don't want me, which is totally cool with me.  
  
The thing is that I really _don't_ like moving from place to place. I would rather be in one place all the time however that would make the school happy, which would make my mother happy and I'm still mad at her for not trying harder with my dad. Not that I'm _surprised_ that she dumped him off at some mental institution.  
  
Before my dad had his crisis, my parents didn't really like each other. My dad, after seeing some of my parents' wedding photos, married my mother for her looks, because I can't deny it, but I got my looks from her gene pool. And my mother married my father for his money, which is _fairly_ obvious.  
  
Now, you see, if my father didn't have his breakdown, my parents would probably be divorced and I would be living with my father off at some private school, playing hockey; his dream for me, and his assets would be split equitably between them. But, my mother is now not only his spouse, but his '_guardian_' for lack of a better word and because of his mental incapacity, has total control over his funds, houses, cars... _everything_.  
  
And I hate her for it. Now don't even think of trying to write off the word hate. I mean I _hate_ her with a _fiery, burning passion_ that consumes me to the core. And believe me she deserves it.  
  
I yawned once and turned over. My mother was a cure for insomnia; thinking of her always tired me out. I closed my eyes and buried my hands under my pillow, and reopening my eyes, staring at the wall not two inches from my nose.  
  
Sleep came more easily to me as I remembered why I hated my mother.

* * *

The sound of an alarm clock stirred me from a dreamless sleep. I jumped and glanced around the room taking in my surroundings a bit more. On the wall above Drake's bed a poster of '_System of a Down_' and a poster of a huge pot leaf was on the adjacent wall. I smiled.  
  
He walked out of the washroom with toothbrush in hand wearing a pair of boxer shorts. "Good you're up. You definitely didn't want me to walk you." He grinned shoving the foamy brush into his mouth and shuffling back into the washroom. "What do you have for homeroom?" He yelled, muffled by the suds.  
  
I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. "Don't know. I didn't look."  
  
He poked his head out from the doorframe staring at me still sitting in bed. "Well look. I still need breakfast."  
  
I groaned as I reached to the ground from my bed, gripping onto my coat and pulling it onto my lap and reaching into my breast pocket slipping out the perfectly folded piece of paper. I glanced at it quickly. "Advanced Chem.; B. Barkley. Joy." I grumbled and fell back onto my pillow. "That is the _last_ time I'm letting Mimi pick my courses."  
  
Drake giggled from the bathroom. "You're dating a chick named _Mimi_? I'm _so_ _glad_ I like guys."  
  
"_Mimi_ is my _mother_." I shot back at him disgustedly.  
  
He looked around the doorframe again with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. "You call your mother Mimi? What's wrong with '_mom_'?"  
  
I sat up and rolled my eyes. "Because she never was much of a mother and _Lucifer_ was taken." I replied in monotone and opted to rolling out of bed instead of using my knees. I was much too achy to be using my joints. I fell out of bed with a thump and stared up at the white dimply ceiling. "Having fun?" Drake asked standing over me and reaching out a hand to help me off the floor. He sighed as I got up on my own and continued. "Don't worry. Alan has Chemistry with Mr. Berkley the same time as you. He isn't as bad as you would expect."  
  
I nodded and yawned once. "I think I might skip my first day. If they call me I'll tell them I have jet lag."  
  
He snickered and ran a hand through his tangled blue-black hair. "And you'll be in class quicker than you say '_Quack_'."  
  
My eyes widened as he turned his back to me. Did he just say '_quack_'? I shook my head. He must've said something else. "What did you say?" I yelled at him rushing over to the washroom, my eyes widening.  
  
"You'd be in class before you can say Quack?" He said shaking his head and facing the mirror, combing his hair down flat then ruffling it quickly. It looked worse than it did when he rolled out of bed, but I had a feeling he wanted it that way. He glanced at me and must've seen a confused look on my face. "Our mascot at this school is a Duck. Lame-_totally_; however it's really funny to go tell a Varsity hockey player to go _'fuck a duck'_. It's hilarious."  
  
I turned around once and walked to my closet and grabbed a polo shirt from one of the hangers. I felt as if I were hyperventilating. I was a **_Duck_**? My mother put me into a school forcing me to become a _**Duck**_, just like that fool Bombay tried and didn't succeed in doing. I betrayed my father.  
  
I was a _Duck_.  
  
They would pay.

* * *

I cooled down as we wandered through the halls before going to the Cafeteria and Drake seemed to own the school, just by the way he walked. It was like a swagger. He just reeked of confidence. He glanced over at me and frowned. "I don't even know your last name dude." He laughed lazily and shook his head. "I just realized that."  
  
I snorted and shook my head. "Adam Banks."  
  
He smirked. "How _very_ preppy of you." He reached out his hand grasping mine in a tight handshake. "Drake Jones, you're _friendly _everyday roommate slash dealer, at your service Adam Banks." He grinned a big charismatic smile. Hadn't he chosen more alternative style of clothing and dyed his hair bright blue, he probably would've been one of the most popular people at this school, but he chose to be unpopular. I think I liked it better that way.  
  
I smirked. "I wouldn't have pegged you as a _Jones_ type of person."  
  
He shrugged. "You've heard of the saying 'keeping up with the Jones' right?" He asked, not even waiting for my nod in comply. "My great-great- great grandparents were the original Jones and that saying was made up about them." He laughed and wrapped his arm around my neck. "Well enough of that. I am going to educate you about this great a noble school."  
  
"Oh, teach me the ways _my master_." I laughed as we continued walking.  
  
"Banks; you and I, we're one in the same. Like you, I've been to a couple schools and just to tell you, Eden Hall, this place, it's _different_." He smirked as he pushed through the doors of the cafeteria that was jam packed full of people.  
  
I scoffed as I saw every single one of the cliché clicks were spread around throughout the large room. "Just to tell you, Jones; this place is so similar to every single other school I might have thought I walked into the _Twilight Zone_ if I didn't know better."  
  
Alan walked up behind us as I finished speaking. He began to hum the tune of '_the Twilight Zone_' behind Drake's ear, making him swat Alan away. "Get away you freak!" He laughed tousling Alan's hair and rubbing his ear like mad.  
  
Alan shook his head once and his hair seemed to fall back into place, slightly messier than before, but not much. "Are we _enlightening_ the new recruit on the finer aspects of Eden Hall Academy?" Alan asked changing his voice slightly and sticking his nose in the air. "If we are, I would like to put my two cents in."  
  
"And that would be?"  
  
He smirked and leaned over so he wasn't towering over me. "Don't order the meatloaf."  
  
I shook my head. "They put students in there?" I laughed. "I've heard that one so much. _Every_ school thinks that."  
  
He frowned and shook his head violently. "No! I uhh..._ liberated_ some of the frog guts from the biology lab into the mixture last night. Don't order it."  
  
I burst out laughing and Drake made a quick and disgusted face. "Thanks. I think I'm going to eat dinner off campus tonight." He mumbled to himself. "But back onto the real topic. From here I want you, Adam Banks, to point out the jocks for me, if you could."  
  
"Ok." I replied slightly confused. Jocks were usually easy to find with their flashy letterman's jackets. "They're right over..." I stopped in mid sentence and saw the jocks were split into two groups on either end of the cafeteria. "That's odd. They're split up."  
  
"Bingo!" He smirked and looked from either table. "About a year ago there was basically a war going on between our two hockey teams, especially the captains. Most said it was about the JV-Varsity showdown, that we have every year, but a select few, like myself, knew it was about a JV player who was moved up to Varsity." He threw his arm over my shoulder and looked around the cafeteria and searched, pointing over at one of the two 'jock' tables. "_Him_."  
  
My eyes locked on a dark skinned guy, with a large smile spread across his face, laughing along with the guy I met in the stairs when I was moving in last night.  
  
I remember him. _Clearly_.  
  
But he was never smiling; no, always a scowl and with his younger brother and some guy with blond hair. I blinked. _Oreo line. District Five_. He was one of the _Hall_ brothers and he had a big mouth at that, until they got that drunk of a coach to teach them and thing or two about a thing or two. Before that he could barely stand up on his skates, let alone play hockey. And he was always calling me some name.  
  
I closed my eyes. I blocked out most of that year. It was the worst year of my life and I didn't want to remember it...  
  
_**...'It's not worth winning if you can't win big'...  
  
...'Anymore games like that and you'll be the league's top scorer'...  
  
...'Always go for the goal'...  
  
...'Keep your head up'...  
  
...'I'm proud of you Adam'...  
**_  
My eyes flashed open. It was his fault. That _stupid_ Hall kid. He made my dad lose his marbles. It was his entire fault.  
  
"Have you ever seen a pair of jocks get into a _fight_?" Drake laughed, looking over at me knowingly, a twisted sadistic smirk curling onto his lips.  
  
"Actually I _have_, but I think I need a reminder." I grinned. "So what do I have to do?"  
  
Alan threw an arm over other shoulder and looked over at Drake excitedly, his arm twitching ever so slightly. "All you have to do is stand over at the JV table and trip one of the Varsity players. Just that simple."  
  
I raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Quite the war I see."  
  
Drake nodded. "And it was quite entertaining for those who weren't involved." He licked his lips and eyed me. "So you're going to do it right?"  
  
"Yeah." I said shifting out of their grasps and giving them one last look before walking next to the JV table, looking around the cafeteria, pretending to be looking for someone, but in actuality, looking for victims.  
  
Then one came. He was a giant with huge knuckles and blond hair gelled down into a preppy style.  
  
And he went down like a ton of bricks.  
  
A fake gasp fell from my lips as I back up and looked over at the JV hockey player's table that all wore an expression somewhere between terror and shock. The oaf got off the floor and his face was beet red and the room was silent.  
  
I tip toed away from the scene and towards the cafeteria doors where Drake and Alan were waving me over, urging me to move quicker before they realized it was me. I glanced back and saw the first punch thrown, from the oaf to the Hall kid who doubled over.  
  
I rushed out of the room and high-fived Drake and Alan before they wrapped an arm around my neck and rubbed their knuckles into my scalp.  
  
"Welcome Banks." Drake laughed.  
  
Alan nodded in reply. "You did good kid. Not many people would take on Cole on their first shot."  
  
I nodded. "Well you guys are going to have to fill me in on this war that went on between these two teams. If I want to reek any havoc I'm going to need to mimic their _signature _styles." I chuckled throwing an arm over Drake's shoulder.  
  
Alan looked past me at Drake. "Did you tell him about the cake we baked for the Varsity team to give to JV?"  
  
"_Shush!_ You're ruining all my stories!"


	5. Alan and his Theories

**Chapter 5: Alan and his Theories**

I leaned back in the chair beside Alan, still snickering about what happened at breakfast. I watched as every single one of the drones that were otherwise known as my classmates pulled out their books while Alan and I didn't even have a pencil with us let alone a backpack.  
  
I suppressed a laugh as I watched the Hall kid and his friend, the guy with the curly brown hair walk in. The Hall kid had a split lip and the blood had turned into a crust on his lip, coating them like the lipstick that my mother wore, while his friend had the comings of a black eye.  
  
Alan nudged me once as a group of girls walked in behind the two hockey players. "That's Quinn, Connie and Julie." He licked his lips. "Connie and Julie are hockey players on the JV team but Quinn has a slightly..._ different_... extracurricular activity on her '_permanent_' record." He laughed, raising his eyebrows suggestively.  
  
I glanced over at him and frowned. "How would you know?"  
  
He snorted and shook his head. "She was my girlfriend while I was on the track and field team last year."  
  
I laughed. "You were a _jock_?" I snorted and shook my head. "Now that is hard to picture."  
  
He shoved my shoulder and shook his head. "Shut up Banks. Anyways, I broke my leg mid-season and was out for the rest of the meets and Drake '_helped_' me out. Anyways, Quinn dumped my sorry crippled ass and ran off to greener pastures." He shrugged. "But whatever. I figure if it hadn't been for her... I wouldn't be what I am today."  
  
I smirked. "Which is extremely--"  
  
He shot a look at me.  
  
"_Happy_."  
  
He shook his hair out of his eyes and shrugged. "You should go for her. Get yourself out there you know?"  
  
I made a quick face. "I think not. I fly solo. No strings. I get into less trouble that way."  
  
He snorted. "You just tripped a Varsity enforcer. You have just lost your 'innocence' at this school and their probably on the hunt for you right now. So try again."  
  
I plastered on an authentic grin. "Let me settle in then I'll start scoping out my targets." I leaned back in my chair; the back two legs of my chair holding my weight while the front two were in the air.  
  
"Mr. Banks!"  
  
The sudden shout startled me and I fell flat on my back, the chair falling beneath me pitifully. I groaned and Alan shook he head and pretended not to know me. The _jerk_.  
  
"Mr. Banks! Are you alright? Do you need to see the nurse?"  
  
I groaned and attempted to sit up.  
  
"Stay down Mr. Banks." Mr. Berkley said, his white puffy hair waving about him wildly. "You could have a concussion."  
  
I glared at the teacher frowned. "I'm fine and stop calling me that. Mr. Banks is my dad." I snapped quickly and fumbled as I got off the ground as Alan righted the chair.  
  
My stomach dropped as I realized I mentioned my father. I never mention my father unless I'm yelling at Denny or Mimi, never around complete strangers, like my Chemistry teacher and a bunch of conformist classmates. With that thought my face began to feel flush. I cast my eyes to the floor, staring at it like a madman praying that the ground would split open and swallow me whole.  
  
Mr. Berkley cleared his throat carefully and took a step to my side and rested one of his hands on my shoulder, patting it comfortingly, misreading my outburst as a release for the nervousness he thought I was suffering. Pretentious ass-wipe. "Class, I would like you to welcome _Adam Banks_. He just transferred here from _John F. Kennedy Academy_ in _Maine_."  
  
I suppressed a scoff. I was expelled, not transferred and in all honesty, I would rather that they would ignore me rather than try and welcome me, pretending that they want to be my friend and pretending we have things in common. The corner of my mouth twitched.  
  
He mistook that for a smile. "Adam, we sit in _alphabetical_ order in this class; makes it easier for me." He explained giving me a little push away from Alan who sat helplessly at the back of the class. "So, how about you sit next to _Mr. Conway_." He nodded at the curly brown haired kid with a black eye, who stared at me wide eyed, completely shocked.  
  
I swallowed and took a seat in the desk next to the Conway kid and didn't even look at him. Instead I picked at my fingernails and flipping the pages to my textbook, trying my best not to make eye contact with anyone. Eye contact often implies you want to start a conversation with someone and that you're a friendly person; you want to fit in.  
  
When I was in the midst of the figuring out why I didn't want to make eye contact with anyone, someone tapped my left hand.  
  
"Do you play hockey?"  
  
I turned to face the Conway kid who was staring at my face intently, racking his brains on where he may have known me. His cheek, just below his eye was turning a slight purple and was getting a bit puffy and I couldn't help but let my eyes travel to that part of his face. It was so distracting. I blinked remembering he asked me a question. "No." I replied quickly and turned back to my book.

* * *

I was relieved when the bell rang and I bolted out of the room, just waiting outside the door for Alan before I was off too... I checked my time table... Advanced Trig? I groaned. God damn it! _**Frigging Mimi**_! She should have her eyes gouged out with white hot pokers. Never again do I let her choose my subjects. _Never_!  
  
Alan was fast coming out of the class also and gave me a look full of pity. "Dude. Sorry. I thought he would've given up on the whole alphabetical thing by the end of the first month. Front row center. That must seriously _suck_."  
  
I gave him a tired grunt and began to walk down the halls.  
  
"Adam! _Wait_!"  
  
I turned around and saw the Conway kid still trying to talk to me. I groaned and rolled my eyes as him and his little Hall friend jogged up to me and Alan.  
  
"Did you make a new _friend_?" Alan chuckled under his breath, making me elbow him in the ribcage.  
  
Conway and Hall stopped in front of me and their eyes locked on my face. "I think I remember you." Hall nodded looking over at Conway and turned back to me. "But you said you didn't play hockey though."  
  
I rolled my eyes. "I said I _don't_ play hockey; _present tense_. I _did_ play hockey until I was like ten." I grumbled. I just wanted to block those years out of my life and they just wanted to dredge them up and soak up the limelight. Didn't they know they ruined not only my life but countless others? Had they just stayed in line and didn't change anything, my life would be _fine_. It was their _fault_.  
  
Conway nodded excited that he remembered me. "Yeah, you were a Hawk. Number nine, right? I'm Charlie Conway. I was ninety-six on the District 5 Ducks. Weren't you supposed to join our team or something?"  
  
I scowled at him. "I quit that year." I spoke down to him, annoyed. He seemed to be gloating.  
  
"_Chill_." The Hall kid said taking a step back from me. "We just wanted to put any grudges there were in the past behind us, alright Cake-eater?"  
  
That was the nickname. _Cake-eater_. I smirked. "You mean a truce?"  
  
Charlie Conway, number ninety-six grinned at my '_compliance_'. "_Exactly_. Truce from all of the Ducks." He smiled sticking out his hand and blinking obliviously.  
  
I cleared my throat deeply, and spat directly into his open hand, my spit dripping from his palm onto this new black chucks. The corner of my mouth twisted into a ruthless smirk. "_That's_ what I think of you and your team." I replied staring at him as his eyes went from his hand to me. "Now _shoo_."  
  
The Hall kid's hands clenched into two tight fists and raising to his hip but Charlie glanced over at him and shook his head. "_No_ Jesse." He muttered, his nose twitching, and a pink color flooded his cheeks from embarrassment. "Come on lets go." He muttered, grabbing onto Jesse's sleeve and pulling him down the hall in the opposite direction.  
  
Alan stared at me dumbstruck. "Do you want to tell me what the _hell_ that's about?" He asked in a concerned, yet slightly amused tone, his dark eyes blinking wildly.  
  
I shook my head and shrugged. "Nothing, but I, _sure as hell_, need a pick-me- up."  
  
He smirked and nodded. "After witnessing that, I think I need one too, however I think you should keep the 'good boy' act on for at least until the end of classes alright?"  
  
I sighed. "Alright, I'll be good, but the_ second_ the bell rings, that is over."

* * *

I looked around the room, as Alan cracked a window, trying to let some of the smoke out. His side of the room didn't match him at all. It had newspaper clippings about his races, old trophies, and scented candles on his headboard. I wasn't sure if it was me or the drugs, but something didn't quite fit into his alternative look.  
  
"What's with the candles?" I muttered as I rested my head on the mattress of his roommate. "You don't exactly seem like the type of person to need them if you catch my drift."  
  
He looked back at me and laughed, pulling his lighter out of his pant's pocket and lit each of the five candles, one by one, carefully. "Well my mom is a health guru or something, and she said that lavender candles will help me remember shit on tests, but my roommate, _Evan_, is allergic to scented candles."  
  
My nose twitched as the scent mixed in with the smoke. "So why are you lighting them?"  
  
He turned around and sat on the floor across from me leaning against his bed. "Evan is also allergic to smoke and is a total goody-goody, so I blame his sneezing on the candles and the scent covers the drugs; it's fool- proof."  
  
I grinned and lopsided grin and closed my eyes. "So why aren't you rooming with Drake?" I slurred slightly, shaking my head at my own mistake.  
  
He laughed and tapped my foot with his fingertip. "We did, last year, for a week." He scoffed and lolled his head back onto the mattress. "And he drove me up the wall, in a bad way."  
  
I frowned as I noticed the smoke clearing slightly and the sweet smell of the candles got stronger as our conversation continued. "Why?"  
  
He looked around his room; both of the beds were unmade, clothes were thrown everywhere and I was pretty sure I was sitting on an old hamburger that was covered with more dirty clothes, but that was just my guess.  
  
I sighed and nodded. "So it all makes sense."  
  
He nodded. "What ended that week was the cap off the toothpaste. When the teacher on duty found us, we were on the floor practically _strangling_ each other and it took him, a Varsity hockey player and a football player to separate us." He pulled his shaggy hair away from his ear and showed a white scar about an inch long down his tanned neck. He let his hair fall back into place and smirked. "You couldn't pay me enough money to live with him again."  
  
My eyes widened in shock. "Then how the hell are you still together?"  
  
He rolled his eyes. "Think back to your first best friend in the world."  
  
I nodded. That was simple; Mitchell 'Mitch' McGill. I shrugged. "Yeah so?"  
  
"How did you meet him?"  
  
I frowned and tried to remember. "He told me I handled the puck like a girl, and we ended up in the principal's office with black eyes."  
  
"There you go." He nodded. "If you're a guy, your best friend, usually begins as your worst enemy and then for some reason you gain a respect for each other and become friends." He stretched his arms along the edge of the mattress. "See _girls_ are the exact _opposite_. Their worst enemies begin as their best friends. Girls are _vicious_." He concluded with a nod.  
  
I frowned. "What about Drake then?"  
  
Alan closed his eyes and breathed deeply. "What about him?"  
  
"He wasn't my worst enemy."  
  
He opened one eye that looked around the room like a broken doll with shifty eyes. "Drake and you are different. You didn't trust each other at first." He yawned and re-closed his eye. "Stop thinking about it; you're making me feel stupid."  
  
I laughed and got up off the floor, and grabbing onto one of the two bedside tables trying to regain my balance, wishing these stupid schools would stop making floors that move when you get off them. "Well I'm off to do homework." I scoffed, walking over to the door and gripping the handle, marveling at it for a second.  
  
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Alan giggled slightly. "I mean, doing homework in your current condition?"  
  
I turned around and smirked. "Don't worry. I'll give it a more _philosophical_ feel to it."  
  
He snorted and rested his head on his mattress. "Don't kill any brain cells while you're at it!"  
  
I laughed as I opened the door. "I think we've already covered that."


	6. Duck Tape: The tape made of Ducks

**A/N: This Chapter is dedicated to my friend Laura whom I have turned onto the Duck fandom!! Yay Laura! This one's for you!**

**Chapter 6: Duck Tape- the Tape made out of Ducks  
**  
"Mr. Banks, although the movie, '_Dude Where's my Car?_' has some funny aspects that a teenager much like yourself might enjoy, I _highly_ doubt _either_ of the characters have any personality traits that they share with _Romeo_." My new English teacher scoffed as he slammed my paper onto my desk and continued down the row.  
  
I rolled my eyes and looked at the giant red _**F**_ on the right hand corner. I blinked and glared down at the sheet. I _vaguely_ remember proving every point with proof from both the movie and the play.  
  
I smirked when I realized that in fact I hadn't done that, and everything made little or no sense. I guess Alan was right. I shouldn't do homework in the condition I was in two nights before. Shrugging it off, I folded the paper twice and shoved it into the pocket of my khaki pants. Hm... I wonder if my mother was going to get a call on how I compared one of the greatest love stories of all time to a comedy about pot and 'super super hot space alien chicks'; should be an _interesting_ conversation.  
  
The last bell of the day rang around me and I dumped all my books into my backpack and swung it over my shoulder and bolted out of the room as quickly as I could, rushing to my locker so I could hang out with Drake and Alan and find out their plans for the weekend. Ahh... _Fridays_... God's gift to high school students.  
  
As I twirled the combination lock on my locker, a quick, light tap on my shoulder interrupted me. I spun around and stared into a pair of deep brown eyes and nearly gagged. It was that Quinn girl that Alan was trying to get me to consider, that under normal circumstances I would never look twice at, mainly because I usually liked a challenge; however these weren't normal circumstances.  
  
"You're Adam Banks, am I correct?" Every word fell gracefully from her glossy pink lips that I could almost see my reflection in. It kind of freaked me out on how much lip gloss some girls used. I wondered if that was the reason why Drake liked guys.  
  
I popped out of my little theory and nodded quietly; thinking that maybe if she thought I was anti-social or quiet, she might just walk away. Girls like her like people who interact with them and talk just as quickly as they do. When she didn't move I realized I would be stuck in this limbo until I actually said something. "Yes I am. Why?"  
  
She grinned, her mirror like lips spreading across her face. "I think I remember you. You lived in Edina for a while right? Played hockey for the Hawks? I lived, and _actually still do_ live up the street from you!"  
  
I smiled and nodded. I had no clue where this was all coming from. She must've taken something to get her this perky. She probably feels that everyone is judging her and she has to plaster on a bright smile whenever she walked into the room; a ray of _fucking_ sunshine. "Yeah I remember." I lied. I had tried to block out every memory in that house that didn't include my father.  
  
She grinned and tilted her head to the right. "That's great! No body likes being in a school where they don't know anyone. It's just not fun, _isn't it_?" She asked, not even waiting for my answer before continuing. "So anyways I'm throwing this little party this weekend because my parents are off to _Tahoe_ for the week. It'd be awesome if you could come, bring a couple friends, make a couple friends." Her hand rose to my shoulder and ran her fingers down the sleeve of my shirt before she dropped her hand, allowing a pink tinge to stain her cheeks.  
  
It was an obvious flirting technique she had probably picked up from some girly magazine that she read like a bible. And at that, I decided to mess with her head a little bit. I smirked slyly, pretending to flirt back. "I don't _know_... I'm kind of _busy_ this weekend..."  
  
"Oh come on! Don't be shy!" She giggled girlishly, flashing a quick photo-op smile that took over her All-American girl petite features. "Everyone is going to be there!"  
  
"_Everyone_?"  
  
"Yeah! _Everyone_! _Even_ the JV hockey team and they _barely_ ever come to one of the parties that aren't thrown by one of them!" She exclaimed half laughing.  
  
_The Ducks_.  
  
The theoretical light bulb flashed in my mind. I leaned down so that our noses were level, so much that I could hear her breath catch in her throat. And she thought I was the _one_ who was nervous. "I'm in." I breathed, with what my brother called an 'up to no good' smirk, kicked my locker closed, making her jump and turning away from her, walking down the hall, knowing full well that she had probably run off to tell her little clique.  
  
After tonight, the Ducks were going to wish they never went to this party.  
  
After tonight, they were going to wish they never messed with my family.  
  
They were going to _pay._

* * *

"Ugh this stupid computer is _gay_!" I yelled slamming the screen down as I realized it had deleted some paper I had actually worked on for a while.  
  
"I didn't know that computers had sexual preferences, let alone sexes." I turned around and half laughed at Drake who was standing at our dorm room door and closing it quietly behind him, for once looking rather rumpled and messy.  
  
I shrugged and glared at my computer. "Yeah well this one does."  
  
He leaned over the back of my chair so he was also looking at my computer. "I don't know if I like sharing the same label as your _ill-working_ computer." He commented before walking over to his bed and tossing his shoes beneath the bed so they were out of the way.  
  
"Fine. It isn't gay. I curse it to _eternal damnation_ along with my_ mother and brother_." I scoffed, spinning my chair so I was facing him as he grabbed a magazine off his nightstand and flipped it open. "Better?"  
  
"Much." He replied, in a bored tone not even glancing up at me. "So what are you planning on doing this weekend?" He muttered, flipping the page with a bored yawn.  
  
"We are going to a party." I announced with a smirk, crossing my arms over my chest.  
  
He dropped his magazine and stared at me. "We are going to a party? Who's party? The only party I've heard of going on is Quinn Jefferies, Alan's ex- girlfriend."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
He grabbed his magazine roughly and buried himself in it so that I couldn't see his face. "No. I'm not going to that _witch's_ house." He growled. "I vowed I would never talk to her ever again after what she did to Alan."  
  
I blinked. "She dumped him."  
  
He dropped his magazine. "Exactly. She _dumped_ him right when he needed his significant other the most; when he was injured, kicked off the track team and all of his grades were dropping." He shook his head and licked his lips angrily. He was fuming. "She doesn't like me, and I don't like her and I don't want to go _alright_?"  
  
I laughed lightly and shook my head. "I'm not going there to party, I've got _ulterior_ motives. Do you really think I would just go to a party like that for the hell of it?"  
  
"You can never tell with some of the new preppies that come to this place." He replied with a laugh. "So what are your plans?"  
  
I smirked. "Are you coming or not?"  
  
He sat up on the edge of his bed. "Oh I'm coming. That's a given."  
  
"What about Alan? Don't you think he would want to be in on this?" I asked pulling my chair closer to Drake's bed.  
  
Drake rolled his eyes and sighed. "Alan's parents are flying in from New England and he has to visit them. Something about a 25th wedding anniversary or some sort of shit. Now tell me the plans!"  
  
I leaned in toward him with a smirk. "We're going after the Ducks."  
  
Drake leaned back and frowned. "Alan told me something was up between you and the JV hockey team. I'm not going to be your little henchman and carry out your_ however old_ beef against them." He shifted on his mattress and frowned. "I can deal with things that set you off... like they just start annoying you during lunch with that stupid chant of theirs, but something that has been brewing since before I knew you, is too much for me, you got that?"  
  
I blinked at him and scoffed. "Oh _please._ You pressure me into tripping a Varsity player to start a fight before I even go to my first class and now you _can't_ do something for me that's been a long time coming?" I asked accusingly with a scowl. "I should've known. You're just another schoolyard bully whose only weapon is _peer pressure_."  
  
He stood up, grabbing onto the collar of my shirt and dragging me to my feet. "I didn't pressure you to do _nothing_." He growled at me and giving me a push so I was in the middle of the room. "_Look,_ I don't get involved with shit like this. This isn't my area alright; so back off _preppy_."  
  
"Don't call me preppy." I stated with a razor edge to my tongue. "All I did; was ask a favor."  
  
"And I said no, so you should drop it alright?" He shot back at me, turning away from me and walking over to the window as he ran a hand roughly through the blue streak of hair.  
  
"I'm not even going after just the Ducks ok? They are just the main target! I'm planning on ruining the _whole_ party and _framing_ them!"  
  
He stopped in mid-stride and glanced over his shoulder at me. "_Really_."  
  
"Yeah." I lied through my teeth. "They'll be so stuck they won't know what hit them." I grinned.  
  
He turned around and crossed his arms. "Do tell me. What are you planning?"  
  
I licked my lips and allowed my lips to curl into a cruel smile as I reached into my backpack. "All we need is this whistle, and this."  
  
He caught the duct tape that I threw to him and rolled it between his hands as if he were weighing it carefully. "Duct tape?"  
  
I smiled. "Did you know some people mispronounce it '_Duck_' tape?"  
  
He laughed and shook his head. "You mean, tape made of _ducks_?"  
  
I nodded and blew the whistle, the sound of a quiet quack coming from the wood. "Quack, quack, _quack_." I hissed as I tossed it to him.  
  
He raised an eyebrow and let out a quiet chuckle. "Ok, now fill me in with the minor details."  
  
I nodded and sat down on my bed. "You got it." 


	7. Party Time Pranks

**Chapter 7: Party Time Pranks**

"You look like a _prep_."

I shot a look over at Drake as he smirked at me, his eyes glinting mischievously in the streetlights that lined the street that I hadn't lived on since a couple weeks after I turned eleven.

I had decided a long time ago, that people; communities don't change, just age. I was pretty much right too. Mr. McGregor's front door had changed from white to blue and I only remember him because at Halloween he was the one who gave out the _best_ candy... my favorites.

**...**

"I can't believe you dressed up as a hockey player." Denny scoffed as we walked out our front door. "It's _Halloween_! You're supposed to dress up as something you're not!"

I glanced over at my brother in his extra-terrestrial mask and silvery cape that flowed in the late October air behind him. "I guess you're not following the rules either."

He glared at me before turning toward our neighbor's yard. "I _heard_ that." He snapped.

This was the first time my father had actually allowed us to go out on our own, so to speak. I was supposed to stay within two steps of my brother and Denny was in charge. I wasn't supposed to speak to anyone unless I was saying 'Trick or Treat' or 'Thank-you'. Mimi had said that if she found out I hadn't been polite, I would be in deep trouble and knowing her and her friends, I would be.

"I don't want to go to Dr. Milligan's!" I whined in my typical seven year old voice. "All he gives out is toothpaste and dental floss!"

My brother looked down at me and shook his head, pulling his mask up so he could look me straight in the eye. "Mom will have my neck if she doesn't see the toothbrush in our bags because she promised we would visit. We're going Adam."

"_Denny_!!"

"Adam! We're going!"

I fell behind slightly, staring at his shimmer-y cape from behind as it twinkled in my eyes in the streetlights. I took my chance to find Mr. McGregor's house when Denny got caught up with some friends from school and took off down the street. It was no big deal. All I had to do was find the white mailbox with purple flowers and the white door. Mr. McGregor was the only person on the block who didn't paint his front door.

I ran down the street, and grinned happily, my childish laughter escaping my lips and mixing in with the other children's going the other way down the street.

But soon, my laughs echoed, and they weren't with all the others. I spun around twice, my eyes widening as I clutched my bag of candy close to me. The street lights got blurry as tears of fright pricked the insides of my eyelids. I was scared and alone. And no way home.

**...**

I shook my head trying to forget that memory. It took three hours for my mother to find me. My father was at home and the second I came home he enveloped me in a huge hug. My mother wasn't as loving. She was probably just scared, but I was scared too; _terrified_ really.

"Adam!" Drake snapped his fingers in front of my eyes. "Focus; we have to keep our minds on the task in front of us. If either of us gets side tracked, we're going to be _screwed_!"

I blinked and nodded. "Yeah. Of course." I muttered with another shake of my head. "We'll split up and then at midnight we'll meet back in the front hall and put our plan in action. Sound good?"

Drake nodded. "Definitely. Well you have fun." He laughed. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" He snickered as he walked into the house and turned the corner.

I laughed and turned opposite way immediately bumping into someone and knocking her down. "Aw shit." I half chuckled and offered my hand to the girl with long dirty blond hair twisted into a pair of braids. "You ok?"

She nodded and pushed an invisible hair out of her eyes and behind her ear. "Yeah. I'm fine." She blushed slightly and stared at her shoes for a moment before looking at up me. "Do I know you?"

I shook my head and looked down at her. "I don't think so. You might be in one of my classes."

"Oh yeah!! You're the guy who fell out of his seat in Chemistry!" She giggled.

I inwardly groaned and shook my head. That not so shining moment was going to haunt me until I was out of this school. "Yeah that's me." I forced a grin on my face. "But everyone else calls me Adam. Adam Banks." I stuck out my hand for her to shake.

She smirked and grabbed my hand tightly; tighter than any other girl's handshake I had ever experienced. "Julie Gaffney."

Julie Gaffney... Oh yeah... Alan had said she was the goalie for the JV hockey team.

My blood began to boil.

_**Duck**_.

A Duck was touching me. Shaking my hand, no less like an equal. She was below me. She ruined my life. She ruined my father's life.

Her greenish eyes drifted over my shoulder and a soft smile appeared on her lips. "Excuse me. I have a boyfriend to attend to." She laughed releasing my hand and stepping around me gracefully. "Scooter! You _goof_! I'm over here!"

I turned around and saw some guy tapping the shoulders of every person in the next room holding his hand up to his chin, showing how tall the female Duck I had been speaking to only moments before. He looked up with his 'All American boy' good looks, a letterman's jacket to top it off and a huge smile traveled all the way to his ears as she came into view.

They were perfect. _Too perfect_.

I wanted to be sick.

"Hey there! You made it!"

I caught myself before I was sick. It was that Quinn girl. I turned around and forced a smile. "Yeah I did."

She looped her arm through mine and led me through the party. "Have you gotten a drink yet?" Her eyes looked up at me pleadingly.

Drake had said no drinking and no drugs until after we had finished what we were planning, but one drink wouldn't hurt me... right? "_Not yet_!" I replied just as perkily, allowing her to lead me into her kitchen.

"Beer?" She offered holding out a cool amber bottle to me.

I glanced at her and took it from her hand and twisted it open with a snap and letting the bitter slippery substance slide down my throat. I closed my eyes. I could feel my nerves and nervousness release their rough grip on me. I felt so much better.

She took the bottle from my hands and set it on the counter and her lips curled into an innocent smile. She shifted into my grasp and pulled my lips to hers, allowing her tongue to slip into my mouth, teasing me. Playing a game that I _always_ win.

She pulled away from me and smiled. "Want to go upstairs?"

**_...A Couple Hours Later..._**

Drake laughed at me as I stumbled out of the house, re-buttoning my shirt as I tripped over my own feet and down the interlocking brick steps

He eyes moved over me as I approached him. "You look like you had fun." He snickered. "Did you make a new _friend_?"

I laughed. "She's more like a stalker." I grinned and I pulled my vest over my head.

He grinned. "You have lipstick on your chin, and your hair looks rather hilarious." He said ruffling my already tousled hair. He put down his backpack that was slung over his shoulder and pulled a pair of black hooded sweaters out. "Take. We need to blend dude."

I pulled the sweater over my head adding yet another layer and then grabbing a roll of duct tape from the back pack as well. "Don't forget the windows. I've made that mistake before." I told Drake in monotone.

He nodded. "Ok, I'll meet you here in ten minutes max. Alright?"

I nodded and ran around to the back as he started on the front.

'_Plan: Fuck the Ducks_' was in progress.

...

I smiled despite myself as I smoothed the last piece of duct tape over the windowsill.

Even though I was wearing three layers of clothing, the November air nipped at my fingers and caused me to shiver within my black hooded sweatshirt. I quickly shoved my hands in my sleeves and tip toed through the hedges and around to the front of the house, blowing my hot and heavy breath that was soaked with alcohol into my cupped hands, attempting to keep them warm.

Drake was sitting on the curb, my backpack beside him, beneath a streetlight. The golden light cascaded over his features as he rubbed his arms, also trying his best, and failing at keeping warm.

"Hey Jerk-off! What the hell do you think you're doing?!" I hissed as I stood behind him making him jump about three feet in the air and catching his breath in a comical sense.

Within a second he realized it was me and shot a look that should've killed me on the spot, and shoved the wooden whistle I had picked up at a specialty hunting shop in the city. "Hey, fuck wit; how about not scaring the shit out of me and not getting caught in the process?" He snapped; his tongue as sharp as a fresh razor blade.

I chuckled under my breath at his overreaction and slipped the leathery cord of the whistle over my head and pulled my hood up, shading my face from the streetlights. "You make that sound like a _bad_ thing."

He raised a skeptical eyebrow and mimicked me by pulling his hood up also. "It is a bad thing." He shook his head and scoffed. "Man, you live on the edge."

I couldn't even attempt to repress the sneer that curled onto my lips playfully. "Don't you know it." I muttered, bringing the wooden whistle to my lips and letting out three blasts that sounded like the three of the clearest duck calls I had ever in my life heard.

Within seconds the music inside was silenced and a lot of the party had turned into a dull roar in comparison to the booming that had taken over the usual quiet neighborhood in the suburbs just out of the city. Seconds later, the aura of the house changed from confused to panic as occupants realized they were trapped.

I let out another blast from the whistle and watched as Drake cupped his hands around his mouth and screamed into the deafening silence of the night.

**"Ducks Fly Together!!!"**

As we rushed down the street before any of party-goers looked out the windows at our black silhouettes, we called out, quacking and laughing insanely before we jumped into a group of manicured hedges. Our chuckles caught in our throats, choking us until we couldn't laugh anymore, rendering our bodies to shakes with laughter in silence waiting until it subsided so we could calmly walk into my house without looking guilty.

It didn't matter.

Every time his eye caught mine _(or was it the other way around?),_ we burst into laughter, earning looks from my mother as she slipped up the stairs with a glass filled with vodka.

It was a night to remember.

* * *

A/N: It's been a while hasn't it! I've been caught up in the real world and I haven't had time to even think about my writing (its blasphemy isn't it!!). But now I'm back. I'm going to try my best not to ever do that again! Oh to shout outs!

**Emmy**- sniffle I don't know if you'll get to read this. I've heard through the grapevine that you got an profile, but couldn't get back onto LJ or AIM, so I'm hoping like hell you'll read this. I'm hoping that the party chapter lived up to your expectations. I really do. I miss you like hell, and I hope you'll read this even if you can't review. You rule ok?!

**Rach**- Hey you! I know... I'm a disgrace... I haven't updated in like forever and now you probably hate me... has it passed yet? So... you've gotten your dose of Adam and Drake hotness. Are you happy now? I wanted to thank you for 'bugging' me over MSN. You helped bring me back into I'm sorry for not being around. It was rude. laughs I missed you guys! I'll try not to ever take that much time off ever again!

**xXxSarahxXx**- I'm sorry for making it such a long wait to find out what Adam did. That must've been terrible! My bad! I thought the Duct/Duck was pretty smart too. I'm amused easily. So sue me!

**Katie**- Hon, you also helped me make to the fandom. I owe you big time. Thanks for talking to me despite my unexplainable disappearance into oblivion. I'm glad you liked the like 'ray of fucking sunshine'. I use that line with my friends all the time. It cracks them up all the time. I hope you enjoy the party chapter as much as you did the last one (if you can remember it...). I'll try not to take that long a vacation from the fandom ever again ok? Talk to you later!

**Banksiesbabe99**- Hi there. I'm sorry for making Adam into an arse (don't worry, I love him too. Just wait.) but I'm glad you like my story despite my rather long and tedious vacation from writing. Thanks for the review!

**DigitalAngel4U**- Wow... that was one of the nicest reviews I have ever gotten. I'm really flattered. I was kind of bored of the normal Adam stereotypes and I thought I would do something different and I'm really proud of Drake and Alan. I don't think I've liked a pair of OCs that I've created, so much. I'm sorry for making you wait for such a while for the next chapter of this story. I hope it's worth it and I hope I hear from you again! Thanks so much!

Toodles!

Katie Girl!


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